Tell me this, and tell me no more: what is it with men and buckets? It is you see a truth universally acknowledged, that if you buy a bucket, a passing human of the masculine kind will do one of two things:
a) Fill it with something obnoxious
b) Make it disappear never to be seen again.
Hell yes. I do believe that somewhere out yonder there is a place men go to show off all the buckets they have snaffled off women who want to do no more than fill their lovingly chosen pail with hot soapy water and a squirt of something pine-scented. Men love buckets: a fact not often discussed in polite society.
And so my lovelies in an unprecedented act of independence I have bought another bucket (and a very tasteful bucket it is too) and I intend to guard it with all the screechy lunacy I usually reserve for those who help themselves to MY violet cremes.
Be warned men in the vicinity: I take no prisoners.